


Uplifted

by Sachete



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Anal Sex, Creampie, Interspecies Sex, Knotting, M/M, Mating, Size Difference, Tentacle Dick, Wall Sex, dubious knowledge of moth anatomy, kind of?, mothman is real and he fucked me against the door of his winnebago
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 11:35:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17487350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sachete/pseuds/Sachete
Summary: Duck, self-described bear, never could have imagined that THIS was what he'd been missing out on.





	Uplifted

**Author's Note:**

> hello and welcome to the most depraved fic i've written thus far. my name is your host, sachete, and today i wanna show y'all what happens when the indruck discord server is too enabling.

It’s refreshing, Duck will think after all of this, to be the one manhandled for once. He’s not thinking about it much right now on account of the aforementioned manhandling taking place. Indrid, as difficult as he is to read in this form, seems pleased at having Duck pinned bodily against the Winnebago’s front door. His eyes, red as the glasses that lay discarded on the kitchen table and consumed in an unmistakably animal hunger, rake over Duck’s naked form—his flushed, heaving chest; the bruises blooming on his arms, thighs, neck, from the force of their foreplay; his leaking cock, throbbing with excitement at this new, helpless position—Indrid regards him as if deciding where to begin.

“Fuck, ‘drid, you gotta—” Duck begins, notices the waver in his voice, swallows, tries again. “—gotta do  _ something _ besides stare already, c’mon,  _ please—” _

“I’m having a rather nice time looking at you, darling,” muses Indrid, his tone suggesting a bottomless well of patience, but there’s a minute tightening around Duck’s biceps where Indrid’s grip is supporting all of his weight. If he can wear away at him, tempt him into snapping—

Duck’s feet aren’t touching the floor, but he can bear against the wall and arch up, humping into the air in a useless search for friction, attention,  _ anything _ to get Indrid to touch him, to fuck him already. He’s successful in drawing Indrid’s gaze towards his neglected cock.

“Now, now, Duck Newton,” says Indrid. His second set of arms, which up until now had been rather ornamental, dart out, grab Duck’s knees and spread them, pinning them against the door as well. A beleaguered tsk. “We can’t be having any of that. You’ll be taken care of soon enough.”

“Soon enough” apparently means “immediately,” though, as two tapered tendrils, swollen and glistening with slick and smelling faintly of... pineapple? begin stroking against Duck’s asshole, prodding and pulsing and worming easily inside. There’s tingling where the slick coats his skin, like a warming lube, that heightens every touch to maddening sensation.

“Mm, Duck, you are— _ delightful _ .” The first tendril, having worked is full length inside, coils and squirms, finding Duck’s prostate accidentally but frequently enough that Duck’s panting escalates into moaning, and then into near full-throated yelling. Their bodies connect only where Indrid’s sex emerges from his abdomen and where Duck is being held against the door, giving the heady sensation of being used, and, fuck,  _ bred _ .

The other tendril, rather than enter him as well, is merciful enough to twine up Duck’s cock, and tightens and pulses and strokes, so slick and so warm.

“Such a lovely, lovely mate,” Indrid chirrs. “So small, so soft, so easy to hold.”

“Indrid, Indrid, fuck, fuck,  _ fuck— _ ”

“I’m going to come inside you, Duck.”

“Yes, God, yes, fuck, please, do it, please do it, please come in me, _please_ _please_ _please—_ ”

It’s a flood, to be accurate. Fluid pumps deep into him and seeps around his cock, the ample overflow splattering audibly against the linoleum landing. Indrid’s tendrils swell even larger, lodging snugly inside him and tightening around is cock almost painfully. Duck screams as his orgasm is wrenched from him—spasms and writhes against Indrid’s hold as he tries to close his legs, but it’s useless. He’s held open and aloft, even as Indrid’s come slows to a trickle. There’s still so much inside that won’t come out until Indrid removes himself, and that doesn’t seem to be happening any time soon—not until he’s been well and thoroughly bred.

The tendril around his cock continues to eke out oversensitive jolts, the last pathetic drops of Duck’s come dribbling down and mingling with Indrid’s in pulses. Just as it starts to hurt, Indrid releases Duck’s cock and leaves it to soften. There are tears streaking down Duck’s face.

They stay that way for a moment, Duck catching his breath and Indrid shuddering with his own kind of overstimulation. Duck’s breath disturbs the lay of the feathery scales covering Indrid’s thorax. He wants very much to lean his head forward against the fluff, but the current position won’t allow it. He can only wait until Indrid is finished with him.

After several beats of silence, Indrid sighs and begins to extract himself from Duck. “Do you think you can hold it in?” he asks.

Such a simple question, and it makes Duck’s cock stir weakly. He nods; says, hoarse, “I’ll try.”

The tendril slips out of Duck at last and retracts with the other into Indrid’s abdomen. Duck clenches with the effort to keep everything inside, but still hears himself leaking steadily, spattering with the rest of the come on the floor.

“Maybe we should try a plug,” Indrid says, as mild as if he were commenting on the weather. “I like the idea of you going about your business with my come sloshing around inside you.”

“Sloshing ain’t exactly the word I woulda gone for, but go off, I guess.”

Indrid snickers, removing Duck from the door and cradling him against his thorax. Duck sighs and nuzzles into the fluff as Indrid carries him into the tiny bathroom and lowers him gently to the ground. “Go ahead and start a shower,” Indrid says, and quickly adds, “I’ll join you right after I clean up our mess by the door.”

“Don’t be long.”

“It’ll only be a moment,” he says, and then leaves Duck to clean up. Duck starts the tap and lets the stream run scalding. The room quickly fills with steam, thick and warm and perfect. He’s in the shower and almost done letting the come run down the drain when Indrid returns, slender human form sidling up behind him in the cramped shower.

“That was really good,” Duck says as Indrid runs his hands up and down his torso.

“Not too rough?”

“Nah, perfect.”

“Anything you’d change if we do it again?” 

“Hmm.” Duck begins the task of cleaning the come out of his pubic hair. “Maybe sometime we could work up to both of your uh. Tentacles. Dicks. Things. In my ass.” Indrid nibbles his ear. The hot water is doing a good job disguising his blush. “I know it’d be a lot, but we can spend more time on prep. I think it’d be worth it.”

“As always, you’re full of surprises, Duck Newton.” Indrid chuckles. “All right. We can work on that. And maybe purchase a plug while we’re at it.”

Duck hums. “I really did like it a lot, ‘drid.”

“I didn’t think you were lying to me.”

“Yeah, but I mean. I’m not used to being the one fucked against the wall, yanno? My body doesn’t really, uh, lend itself to that.”

“Well, let’s be glad, then, that I’m rather versatile in that department, hm?”

“Hell yeah.”

Duck feels Indrid smile and kiss his shoulder. “You truly are a lovely mate, Duck. I’m lucky to have you.”

Duck finally turns around to look at Indrid, who seems silly wearing glasses in the shower, and leans down to kiss him. It’s only brief, but when he pulls away, Indrid is grinning widely.

“I’m lucky to have you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> hi i'm not dead! sorry for dropping off the face of the earth, it'll almost certainly happen again.


End file.
